


Inclination

by SBK



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dirk is gay, F/F, Fluff, Kanaya is a barista, Kanaya is lesbian, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Rose Lalonde is very gay, Rose is a model, Rose is actually bi!, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Vodka, dave is gay, literal lemon, lots of fluff, mentioned alcoholism, mentions of unrequited love, roxy is bi, sexual mentions but not too long, talk of sleeping around, the characters are aged past 21 obviously, very lemony goodness tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:21:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25566574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBK/pseuds/SBK
Summary: Rose has a major crush, so does Kanaya.They quickly and rapidly fall in love.in·cli·na·tion/ˌinkləˈnāSH(ə)n/noun: inclination; plural noun: inclinations1.a person's natural tendency or urge to act or feel in a particular way; a disposition or propensity.Similar:tendencypropensityproclivityleaningpredispositionlate Middle English: from Latin inclinatio(n- ), from inclinare ‘bend towards’
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Jake English/Dirk Strider, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam, Roxy Lalonde/John Egbert implied
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Inclination

Rose had become accustomed to the silence of her mind, seated alone in her apartment, she had no idea why, but her thoughts danced back to a pale woman with green lipstick, and emerald eyes that shimmered in the sunlight. How all over her seemingly shimmered in the sun, sparkling with opportunities better yet unknown. Rose couldn’t help the thrumming sensation in her chest, like someone was playing her heartstrings like a violin, plucking each dangerously - and harshly, never allotting her the room to daydream of anything else but green against black. By all means, Rose was never great at confronting the emotions she’d learn to drink down - shots and shots pouring into her stomach like acid on a painting, being digested and forcing her into a flushing and choppy state. Kanaya was her name, with black hair that was short, and ever so fluffy. The two, they’d talked plenty of times at the local bar - Kanaya was a barista afterall, and a mighty  _ fine  _ one at that. Rose often daydreamed, daydreamed of what they could be - about what they already weren’t. Rose slacked entirely when it came to common sense though, only exclusively around Maryam. The Maryam family had actually been quite popular for their bar however, The Troll, is what it was called. Rose mused to herself silently, a ginger smile brushing across her lips, she couldn’t bite it back - how ironic for it to be called The Troll when it was run by a literal angel. 

Kanaya was none the wiser of the Lalonde’s interests, in fact, she couldn’t have been more spacious and oblivious to it - Kanaya thought she was beautiful, personally, and the albino female had incidentally piqued the noirette’s attention. Something about the way Kanaya’s heart weakened, and she made extra care to ensure Rose wasn’t  _ over drinking  _ which was shockingly, a fatal flaw in the beauty that was Rose Lalonde. Rose, despite sloppily being unbelievable amounts of  _ hammered  _ was still heavenly in her appearance. Ethereal, almost, with the vermillion wine color that would flutter over her cheeks, long white eyelashes kissing her flesh everytime she blinked - how Kanaya desperately wanted to press her lips against all of Rose, taking all of her in - vodka scent and all. Her lavender eyes held unspoken mysteries, though her eyes would slightly crease anytime she was feeling particularly mischievous - something Kanaya found it a struggle to get used to. Yet, Kanaya was head over heels, crossing her fingers beneath the bar counter, begging silently for the girl to walk in. 

Rose had started frequenting nightly, though she didn’t always drink, which was surprising - Rose was a bit of an alcoholic all things considered, but sometimes she’d order a simple orange juice, she’d wrap black painted lips around neon straws, sucking gently at the “all natural fruit juice” as her older sister proclaimed, with an overly sly grin - when in reality it was canned and frozen in the back, so it was a heinous lie, but Kanaya found herself fresh squeezing oranges from the local supermarket, just for the Lalonde, something that wouldn’t be missed by her family’s quizzical eyes. Kanaya couldn’t help it though, some part of her - some motherly instinct manufactured by only God knows what (she hated children) forced her to look after Lalonde. Anytime Rose would slip up to throw herself upon the dance floor, not necessarily graceful but still each movement would entice Kanaya, she’d even find herself licking her lips, eyeing long, slender legs. Rose frequented the bar in an orange dress, sometimes black, rarely purple. Kanaya’s personal favorite was a lime green dress that hung snugly around Rose’s rather petite waist, it highlighted the subtle curves Rose had. Kanaya especially swooned when emerald stones would hang from her ears in the form of expensive jewelry, at one point Kanaya had weaseled Rose’s occupation out of her - 

“I’m a model for my mother’s clothing line.” Rose didn’t seem particularly that happy in her job, especially when she was drunk. When intoxication rooted itself into her bones, she’d move around sloppily and especially messily, launching grabby hands that might’ve annoyed Kanaya, had it been anyone else. It was on one of those particularly common occasions, where Rose was beyond gone, that Kanaya found herself in quite the predicament. 

“Kiss meee…” Rose fussed, grasping at Kanaya’s dress. The bar had just closed, seeing as it was 3:50 am, but no matter what Kanaya attempted to do, it seemed like the white haired female would not leave without obtaining a peck on the lips. Kanaya was nauseated by the taste of alcohol, and more times than not she’d have to reel herself backwards from the stinking scent of vodka martinis that would dance on her tongue. Kanaya could not fathom overcoming that here and now however, outside the bar, surrounded by flashing lights of neon - it was a redlight district after all, and many other bars were open until the peak hours of 7 am. Kanaya could feel the stinging exhaustion in her eyes, and after many desperate attempts to get Rose’s address from her, she realized this would be futile. 

So Kanaya did the only reasonable thing, take her home with her. 

Kanaya would leave her phone number on the counter of her small, one bedroom apartment, and a note below. 

_ Good afternoon, Rose, I assume you might’ve failed to wake up at a decent hour considering your state of intoxication last night. I’ve left some water and pills for you, the pills are standard off brand ibuprofen for your more than likely hangover. Help yourself to the fridge, I’ve even squoze some fresh orange juice for you. When you leave, please lock the door.  _

  * _Kanaya_



_ Ps: I did not take advantage of you in your drunken state. Although you really wanted me to kiss you.  _

Rose would wake up at about 2:06 pm, confused for sure. A foregin apartment smelling of cheap incense, curtains that covered windows with the constellations covering them. Shag carpet that wouldn’t, surprisingly, be that horrible to stand on barefooted - and Rose felt the vomit riding in her throat. Somehow she’d made it to the bathroom, dashing into the nearest open door, launching the toilet seat up, she emptied what remained in her stomach from the night prior, her head pulsing painfully and sharply in a way that nearly blinded her. Had she slept with a stranger? More than likely, Rose was a bit of a… player at bars, but not since she developed a one sided crush on Kanaya. But once drunk, anything was a possibility when it came to Rose, she let her appearances ride free, hair loose, grins common, and more importantly - feelings demanded. She often found herself in random boy’s and girl’s houses more times than not, vague and fleeting memories of the night before holding lust craved kisses and rough menstrations. 

The pills on the counter were the first thing Rose discovered upon reentry of the living room. A glass of water was the second thing, and a note would be the third thing. How nice of her hookup, though she supposes it would be strange for a hookup to be on the couch, now that she thinks about it. Her back did hurt from said couch, it wasn’t exactly the most comfortable, it was made out of mock leather perhaps. Rose took the six ibuprofen left out for her, and swug down a big gulp of water, before chugging it helplessly. To her horror, the note was signed by none other than Kanaya. 

Her crush. 

Rose felt the infectious heat splatter across her face all at once, spreading throughout her whole body, and for but a rare moment, she yelped out loud, threw her hands into her hair, and danced around in a circle, raising her knees impossibly high. The orange juice, on the other hand, was very delicious, and Rose enjoyed every sip from the cup that had been placed with plastic wrap covering the top. It tasted just like the bar’s, and Rose felt herself close her eyes in slight enjoyment. The flavor was enough to take her back to flashing lights, steam, loud music, and fruity drinks that promised mind fog later on. 

Click. 

Rose locked the door behind her, and would press the key beneath Kanaya’s welcome matt, and then another realization would dawn upon her - this was her apartment building, though Rose was several floors higher, and had a better view of the city - of course, her apartment would be a lot more pricier, and it was also slightly bigger. It had two rooms, one for her elder sister Roxy, and one for herself. Though Rose’s house was constantly a turmoil of clothing, strange puppets that their brother’s left behind on many of their four-person slumber parties, discussing girls and boys - and the like. David was currently crushing on a boy with ashen hair, pale skin, and carmine eyes. Dirk still had the same-old feelings for Jake, though Jake didn’t really seem all entirely enthusiastic about Dirk’s continuous flirtatious spouts. Roxy found her source of endearment placed in a boy only a mere couple years younger, one she liked dressing up in various clothing, his name was John - the distant cousin of Jake. Rose, now that she thinks about it, was the only one that had feelings for another  _ girl  _ in that apartment. 

Rose had thought about it carefully, but before abandoning Kanaya’s house, she scribbled her number down on the piece of paper, as well as her address, but she had no idea she was only a few floors above. She debated if it would be strange to open the apartment up, and scribble that part of the note out. 

Rose slightly regretted not doing it, back in the safety of her own room, screaming silently into her pillow as she kicked her legs up and down much like a teenager would when caught in the bubblings of emotions. 

So quickly did Rose get changed and dressed, so quickly did she take care to apply grape eyeshadow, obsidian black lipstick, and plum earrings. It was one of the rare nights where the only clean clothes she had were in her favorite color - purple. She mused that it was possibly due to her eyes sharing the color, and that ever since she saw it, she felt partially at home in lilac colored fabrics and jewels. Rose was shy though, and rarely wore it - parting from when she was younger, and would only be  _ seen  _ in either pure black or pure purple. Eventually she’d flustered when the conversations would come up. 

Roxy would drunkenly spewl. 

“Ouuhhh~!! Look how cute you was, Rosie!” Roxy would talk with that thick New Yorker’s accent, that Rose had failed to pick up in the golden state of California. Roxy, in her youth, had made chic and elegant clothing that appealed to the eyes of plenty high profile magazines and clothing companies - as such, Roxy had quite the spendable income, and now that she had such, she’d started her own business - Mutini Clothes. It had an image of a cat on it, splitted into white and black like yin and yang. 

Rose waited until it was a quarter to midnight before she descended her apartment, and began the walk to her most  _ favorable  _ bar, only a block away from her apartment complex. 

“So you live above me, hm?” Kanaya inquired once, shaking a bottle in her hands, ice chunks noisily sloshing. It was a quiet night, perhaps because it was a boring Tuesday.

Rose would try her best to swallow her flustered cheeks down back into the pits of her stomach. 

“I do.” Rose would confirm. 

  
  


\---

  
  


Rose wasn’t even sure how she’d ended up in the situation she was currently finding herself in, sprawled out below Kanaya, wrists bound by expensive feeling rope - eyes hidden behind… a scarf maybe? Rose felt this very akin to Fifty Shades of Grey, and she wasn’t too sure how she felt about it. She was naked, and very shy, and hauntingly insecure, she had to keep a fit and slim body, leaning on nearly unhealthily petite - due to the nature of business she’d been forced into. Roxy kept it too, they both were on a diet of zero carbs - except for the rare occasion Roxy would bust out the  _ wine filled chocolates from Germany, c’mon you HAFTA try it Rosie~!  _

For the record, they were very good. The wine in them was thick, and it wasn’t usually enough to get drunk off of, unless one were to eat the entire box by themselves, but Rose had abandoned her sweet tooth long ago, and actually found it heart to treasure the sugary delights that was candy. 

Kanaya didn’t particularly regulate her diet, but she did workout at a nearby gym, Rose had noticed on the few occasions that Kanaya would recognize her frequent customer, and throw Rose a gentle smile.

A lick on her most intimate parts is what drove Rose back into her reality, and a shuttering gasp would slip past panicked lips as she’d try to squirm - squirm into nothing. Her wrists and ankles were bound afterall, and before long, she knew she was in for a while. 

\---

They were dating, Rose found her solace in Kanaya’s house more times than not, sipping at the ginger tea she forced into the cabinets, and Kanaya didn’t mind, simply found the boxes of tea endearingly sweet, reminiscent of Rose, and it was a friendly reminder of what they had - 

Love. 

Something not very many people genuinely experienced in their short lifespans, and Kanaya knew nothing but one thing, she wanted Rose to be a part of her’s forever. 


End file.
